The House of Life 1

by Vann Chow

  “Here we are.” Without warning Michael stopped on his heel and wheeled Elise towards a dimly lighted Chinese pharmacy. A plethora of dried Chinese mushrooms, pearly white rice, cracked peanuts came from the worn nylon stashes that were filled to the rims with goods at the entrance of the pharmacy clustered Elise’s eyes. At the far end of the store where the dying out fluorescence lamp was not strong enough to extend its glow, a silhouette of a person shifted. Elise lifted her buzzing head to see a sign out front that said, “The Chamber of Life and Nutrition”. From the peeling gold pigment that painted these words in Chinese against a deep red background, Elise could tell the age of the pharmacy.

  “It’s nothing like what I thought it’d be. It’s actually a real Chinese pharmacy!” She said. The architecture that housed the pharmacy looked ancient, as if it had been around for ages.

  Before Elise could figure things out, Michael had already walked up a step into the store. Pulling Elise behind him, he yelled to the person at the far back, “Mom! I’ve found you a customer. I’ll go get two ‘Eight-Treasures’ from the fridge!” At this, the mysterious figure rushed out from the back of the counter, rattling the cluster of metal pellets that held dried ginseng samples on top of it and hurried over into the light. In a split of a second, the old lady whipped out two chairs and a fold-up table from behind one of the many rag-bags of dried herbs magically, and set two sets of silverware next to each other. Intrigued, Elise stood fixed next to a big pot of unknown dried plant in the middle of the room.

  “Come. Here. Sit here.” In broken English, the woman motioned Elise to sit down. Seeing her immobility, she hugged Elise’s arm into hers and pulled her close to the chair. The lady who was apparently Michael’s mom eyed her for a second, clasped her hand to her mouth and squeaked, “Beautiful girl! Beautiful.” It made Elise blushed. “USA? USA, study...” She paused for a moment trying to come up with the word. “School?”

  Before Elise could answer, Michael yelled out from the back kitchen, “She can understand Cantonese, mom!” and bent over the tall fridge with transparent glass panels heavy with condensation and took something out.

  “Your dad told me to practice my English!” His mom replied in Cantonese then turned back to Elise. “You speak Cantonese?” His mom asked again in English, not discouraged a bit. Elise obligingly nodded with a smile, not knowing which language she should use. “Many foreigners in here. Busy business. English sell more!” Michael’s mom went on to explain in English, animated. At that moment, Michael banged the two porcelain soup bowls on the table.

  “Don’t mind her. She just came down,” he said, but he corrected himself quickly, “From up North, in Mainland, of course.”

  “His dad,” She retorted. “Very clever doctor….Important man has good woman in back. So I need keep house clean and make business. Many business a day!”

  “I give up. Mom, if you really want to practice your English, let us hear your little speech about what you are about to serve her.” Michael said. “The speech I’ve written for you to tell your customers?” He posted a challenge to the old lady.

  “No problem.” She answered quickly. “Welcome to our store!” Sweeping her arms across the room. “We at ‘Cham-ba off-fu Lie-fu and New-tree-tion’ have the fay-mous soup in the whole China, the ‘Eight-Treasure Sof-fu-shelled Tur-tle Soup’” Now pointing at English words on the menu she whipped out from the pockets of her apron: “Eight Treasure Soft-shelled Turtle Soup”. Elise gasped at the sight of the word ‘turtle’.

  “Oh no! The black gelatin that is supposed to be my antidote is a turtle soup!” Elise went on to read from the menu, “Made with wolfberry, pilose asiabell, root of milk vetch, dried pearl barley, gordon euryale and our secret ingredient, healthy yellow-striped turtles.” Elise couldn’t pay any more attention to the sales pitch Michael’s mom was saying.

  “Try it.” Michael nudged Elise.

  “I…I..It’s turtle!” Elise eyeballed the dark thick jelly in the bowl.

  “Have you never tried turtle soup before? It cleanses your body and makes you potent. Actually the Chinese are not the only ones who drink turtle soup. Europeans from the Middle Ages did that and even in nowadays some Americans still do it too. They called it the ‘Snapper Soup’ , but not to be confused with the “Red Snapper Soup’ made of fish though.” He said thoughtfully. “Give it a try.” He held a spoonful against Elise’s lips, his mom watching intently. For fear of disappointing her, Elise opened her mouth bravely and swallowed it.

  “It doesn’t taste as bad as I thought. It actually kind of taste like grass jelly.” At that, both Michael and his mom laughed, satisfied.

  “I told you,” Michael said. His mom pulled out another menu from her other pockets and handed it over to Elise.

  “The item in the same page is different.” Elise exclaimed. This one instead of the turtle, it says it’s made of calf’s head.

  “We have people all over the world that would pay anything to get a taste of the famous turtle soup. Then there are people who are over-the-top animal rights activists carrying papers from the government and say it’s illegal to eat endangered species. It’s a sound business measure to print two menus. Got it?”

  “So which is true?” Elise asked, now taking another spoonful of the soup.

  “It’s healthy in either case,” Michael said, avoiding the question. All the ‘Chamber of Life and Nutrition’ recipes were handed down from the centuries ago in my father’s side. They are all authentic Chinese medicine.”

  “The best!” His mom added in English.

  After some idle chitchat with Michael’s mom, Elise was offered a tour around the old pharmacy. “Come, let me show you around “Chamber of Life and Nutrition. ‘Wing On’ duck tour should include this place in their schedule. This pharmacy has been around as long as there’s Hong Kong.” Michael said, while his mom carried the emptied porcelain bowls which was used to hold the turtle soup back to the kitchen and started to clean up. Elise stole a glance at antique wall clock next to a gigantic mirror that almost spanned the entire wall on the long side of the store. Her view slightly obstructed by the array of dried goods. It said 9:20 pm. I still have plenty of time, she thought to herself, since the MTR runs until 2 am on the weekends.

  “Careful not to knock anything down though,” Michael said, “We are in the progress of remodeling, which has been going on for a little bit longer than fifty years since our grand Master Siu Lok-Wing, who is my grandfather, has died in 1951 at age 32. A young prodigy.”

  “The mirror with Chinese calligraphy written on it you are looking at,” Michael continued, “was a condolences gift given to us by a collective of old patients, who have it made and shipped from China.”

  “華佗再世. 醫德….” Elise couldn’t figure out what the last two characters mean.

  “堪欽” Michael read in Chinese. “It means ‘The great physician Hua Tuo Reincarnate’. It’s a gift from his patients for ethical medical practice.” He said. “The loyal customers who have been with ‘The Chamber of Life and Nutrition’ since they were young grieved extensively for the lost of our Master. He was a revolutionist of the traditional Chinese medical system,” Michael said. “Many thought Chinese medicine would become irrelevant as industrialization took over in the growing cities that were challenged with more and more health issues that came together with escalating population, longer work hours and substandard consumer products. Diseases such as Bronchial Carcinoma, a lung disease related to heavy smoking and prolong inhalation of oily fumes, most common in chain-smokers and restaurant chiefs, and also numerous cases of seafood poisoning and spinal disorders were some of my grandfather's specialties. His most prominent idea was ‘preventive care’, much like nowadays in western medicine. It’s an idea embedded in the Chinese medicine since the beginning but no one has ever educated the patients about preventing diseases by regular checkups. In those days, you know, most people would have to be sick to the bones before they’ll ask for a doctor sinc
e the majority of people who stayed with Chinese medicine after the war were mostly poor folks. In those days, it was told to me, on every Sunday morning at nine, my granddad would carry his fold-up table outside over there,” Michael pointed to the spot now clustered with goods in the storefront, “and set up his free clinics for the old and the poor when most other pharmacies were closed on Sunday. Then the queue started to grow from a few people to thirty, forty people once the words were spread. Some even brought out their plastic chair and sat outside the store the night before, hoping to be the first to see the Master Siu the next morning.”

  “Whoa.” Elise let out her admiration for the deceased doctor as she studied the room ever more carefully now, hit by the historical importance of the pharmacy.

  “Master Siu was always heartbroken when he saw that. He would invite them in if he happened to see anyone outside the metal gate waiting, even if it’s three in the morning. After a while he decided to start early and he woke up at dusk to prepare for the free clinic.”

  “I am starting to see why his customers love him so much. It’s a pity that he died so young. ”

  “‘You can heal a stranger but you can’t help your family’, as the old saying goes.”

  “What happened?” She asked.

  “He died in a fire, in his bedroom upstairs. Right here, right above our heads.” There is a patch of burnt marks on the ceiling. Elise gasped. Michael continued. “I was told that his second wife was unhappy with his long working hours and feeling of constantly being neglected because my grandpa cared more about his patients than his family. The second wife started the fire in their room one night when everyone was sleeping. The firefighters came just in time to put the fire away, so most of the store could be preserved.”

  “What a story happened in here.” Elise stared at the charred ceiling trying to imagine how dire the situation was back in 1952.

  “Yes. My dad said that she called the firefighters in herself right after she started the fire. It was a calculated move, because if they both died, everything my grandpa owned will belong to her. She and her brother sold this store to a big landlord immediately so for a while Temple Street 16th did not belong to The Chamber of Life and Nutrition.”

  “So what happened afterward?” Elise’s curiosity had stolen her concentration for Michael’s story and she started to weave around the room lifting dried goods here and there from the heap displayed in open bins —mushrooms, scallops, abalones, figs, nuts, and other edibles — and each time she held them close to her nose and sniff, as though she’s trying to take in everything breath by breath. With her head down, she didn’t realize when she hit the end of the room. Towering about her was rows and columns of small wooden cabinets. She tiptoed and reached out to one of the little chambers labeled with a name of a herbal medicine which she’s never heard of. Elise pulled it open and scrambled a piece of charred brown object and started to sniff.

  “Yuck.” A pungent fume rose up from it and traveled into her lungs like poisonous gas, suffocating her. She choked violently.

  “That’s a dehydrated cow penis you’ve right there.” Michael laughed hysterically and threw it back into where it belonged.

  “Eww. What’s that for? Impotence?”

  “Good guess. We called it sexual dysfunction. It’s a big part of our business,” he said. “The one you were sniffing is a common prescription. The real expensive ones are all in preservation jars.” Pointing his finger to a shelf installed right below the ceiling. There were glass jars of deer antlers, pearls, and dried lizards and sea horses, as well as other exotic items stored on the shelve. One of them said Deer Genitalia. “The cheapest of these is at least three hundred dollars per pound. There are other cheaper ways of treating sexual dysfunction like acupuncture, scrape therapy and Moxibustion. But you know, some people insisted that they know what they want because they’ve heard other people recommending certain recipe.” Michael looked at Elise thoughtfully and said, “On some level, I think Chinese medicine is all about faith. If you come to think of it, of course we know what we are prescribing to patients but to a layman who don’t understand the usage and health benefits of the medicine they were ordered to take every day, all they could do is to have faith in us and in the magical healing power of the recipes. And by spreading this faith, we get more businesses to support our operation of creating hopes and faith that one could only be well by sustaining the status quo with nature, by becoming one with nature through drinking and eating nature’s reserve for its inhabitants. Simply put, to me, Chinese medicine is an extension of faith.”

  Seeing Elise’s confused expression, he added. “It’s okay, you don’t need to know these. I hope I am not boring you. Anyway, we used to have Rhinoceros horn, bear gallbladders, and other animal parts for sales but these items are now banned in Hong Kong. So whatever we’ve left, we kept them in display cases over there, to impress the foreigners.” Pointing to where the cashier counter was. “They love them.”

  At that moment, Elise heard someone walked down the stairs to the first level. Two heavy steps and then a light plop, then there came the two heavy steps again followed by a light plop. The rhythmic pattern suggested someone senile with a walking stick. When the figure reached the landing of the staircase, lights were reflected off of his big square gold-rimmed glasses.

  “Ahh..A girl.” The figure walked closer painstakingly with determination and said.

  “Dad. This is ...ehh” Michael realized he didn’t know Elise’s Chinese name.

  “Hi, uncle. My name is Chow Wing Yan.” Extending her hand to shake his but realized that it was not a good idea as he was holding himself upright by balancing painstakingly on a Malacca walking cane, so she retracted her hand after a short moment of awkwardness.

  “Wing Yan. That’s a good name. You know it means cleverness and blessing, right? You should be lucky you’ve an educated name. Nowadays the younger generation doesn’t know a thing about naming their own sons and daughters. They either called them ‘Gum’ or ‘Yin’ (Gold or silver). Very provincial. Every child deserves to have a decent name to get them off in the right foot. It’s the first thing people register them by. It affects their future and their mentality but their ignorant parents were too busy to take time and too poor to hire a scholar to name their kids these days! Yet they have big screen TVs in their homes and nanny to care for their kids so they don’t have to take care of them themselves!” The man ranted.

  “My dad likes to rant on a charade about the failing morals of modern days Hong Kong. That’s just because he’s old. You don’t have to listen to everything.” Michael said, sneering. His dad let out a groan of an old man, displeased at his son’s opinion about him. Not knowing if she’s supposed to say anything, she simply smiled.

  “I am going over catch the last episode of ‘Eighteen Miles Away’ with your mom at the tent. It’s starting in twenty minutes.” There he turned to Elise and asked, “Young lady, have you ever heard of Chinese street opera? No? Young people needs to embrace their own culture. Where they came from and where they’ll go. It’s all written in the history. Come with us to the tent. It’ll do you good.”

  “Dad, it’s getting late.” He replied.

  “Well, I could go. In fact, I want to go. I’ve never been in the opera tent before. It should be pretty interesting, huh?” Elise said.

  “Smart girl. I like you already. We’ll wait for you two at the tent. I am an old man and I know it. Wherever I go these days, I go there well in advance so I could find a seat.” There he gave Elise an odd once-over, as if he was diagnosing a patient. Then he murmured: “Hmm… deficiency in blood and Qi. You can use one…I’ll get you a red bean soup, young lady. There is not enough redness on your cheeks. Poor blood circulation makes you fall asleep and lose concentration easily all the time, huh? I can see it. I can see it…” His sharp eyes now darted around Elise’s forehead, straight down to her eyes which made her nervous, and his gaze landed on her cheeks. “You need to ask your
mom to boil you either some beef and tomatoes soup, add an ounce of salvia root, white atractylodes rhizome, poria, chopped licorice and…” A series of medicine names poured out of his mouth naturally from practicing so many years. He paused to make sure Elise has got all these in her head. “Put four bowls of water together with the materials in a hotpot, bring it to simmer then adjusts the heat down until the bubbling stops. Reduce the liquid until the soup thickens into one bowl’s measure. Got it?...Four…to…one. Never mind, ask Michael to write it down for you in English. Your maid can do it for you. Everyone has a maid nowadays…” With that last comment, he walked out the stores.

  “Wait up for me, old man!” Following him was Michael’s mom who had been cleaning the dishes in the kitchen, now in a blue blouse, running to catch up with him on clogging her heels.

  “I guess we should close up the store then.” Michael said. And so they did. Only now had Elise realized how much hard work it took to operate a small store like this. All the bags of goods in the storefront needed not only to be sealed but also to be carried back in the store. Each of them weighed like five gallons of water. In this time of the year, the swelling heat and humid air had Michael sweated heavily. Elise tried to offer her help but he politely declined. “You can’t lift these anyway. You have anemia according to the doctor. And your skinny frame could collapse under one of these. I don’t want any causality in the Chamber of Life and Nutrition. The smallest thing can put us out of practice. Just find a sit somewhere and I’ll be done in no time, okay?”